


For Better or For Worse

by quiettoxic



Series: tumblr requests [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Accidental Marriage, M/M, Magical Accidents, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7762789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiettoxic/pseuds/quiettoxic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh, bloody fuck,” England had been saying, squinting at his spell. “Okay, don’t panic, but I might have… Accidentally… Gotten you married.”</p><p>“<em>Married</em>?” Hong Kong had echoed, hand jerking in Norway’s.</p><p>“Handfasted, technically.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Better or For Worse

**Author's Note:**

> I love how 'accidental marriage' is the second tag that AO3 suggests when you type 'accidental'.
> 
> But anyway, this is a request that got a little out of hand and turned into a romcom, with magic! I'm becoming the sole supplier of NorHong in the fandom or something? It's super flattering but also kind of strange haha please never stop

**N** orway was blaming England for all of this. None of it would have happened if he were a _little_ more competent at magic.

Yet another fairy tugged on his hair, and he swatted her away. They had been bothering him all day, ever since – well. It had been an ordinary morning, some meetings going on in his country, and then England had wanted to show him a spell he found, saying he didn’t know exactly what it was supposed to do, or even which language it was written in.

They had been trying to get the pronunciation right when Hong Kong had come walking over, waving a hand at England. Norway remembered everything as if in slow-motion. Because of course England had chosen that exact moment to do something magical _right_ for once, and he had been holding his hand out, straight at his former colony, and they still hadn’t known what the spell did, so Norway had made a split-second decision and leaped in front of Hong Kong, who was busy taking his headphones off. He’d grabbed his hand and yanked him away, but Norway also remembered the telltale sting of being hit with a powerful spell before he blacked out for a couple of seconds.

He and Hong Kong had come to in a tangle of limbs – and the kid was surprisingly pointy, Norway had thought – with Norway’s right hand clasped in Hong Kong’s left, fingers woven together. When Hong Kong sat up, awkwardly straddling Norway’s thighs and rubbing his head, their hands had remained tangled. They both stared incredulously, first at their hands and then at each other. Norway couldn’t take his hand back.

“Oh, bloody fuck,” England had been saying, squinting at his spell. “Okay, don’t panic, but I might have… Accidentally… Gotten you married.”

“ _Married_?” Hong Kong had echoed, hand jerking in Norway’s.

“Handfasted, technically.”

The spell made sense suddenly. Of course, that one word they didn’t know would then… Right. England had gotten Norway magically married to someone he had barely ever spoken to before, and even if it wouldn’t mean anything to the other nations, Norway already knew it would get him into a lot of trouble with the spirit world.

“Hand-what?” Hong Kong had asked, and Norway had remembered how _young_ he was. He himself was, what – six times as old as him?

As England tried to explain to Hong Kong that handfasting was an old marriage ritual, Norway finally succeeded in prying his hand out of his grip. He’d wiped his palm on his slacks and pushed at Hong Kong’s leg, trying to get him to stand up. He’d done so distractedly, still listening to England.

And that was why Norway was here now, trying to sift through his own spell books in the hopes of finding something he could use to get out of the ‘marriage’. He and Hong Kong had had a short conversation, mainly Norway promising he’d do the same as England and try to find a solution, and Hong Kong nodding in apparent disinterest. He wasn’t so bad, Norway thought. The main problem was the fairies who were scorned about him not having told them he was getting married.

He’d tried to explain, but they wouldn’t listen and wanted to meet his husband.

His _husband_.

More tugging on his hair. He swatted the fairy away again.

He couldn’t find anything useful, and hoped England would have more success. It was, after all, a custom from his home he’d subjected Norway and Hong Kong to.

Norway was about to close the book and just lay his head on top of it when loud guitars pierced through the silence of his house, and he jerked up, scrambling for his phone. He should have put it on silent.

An unknown number, definitely not Norwegian.

“Thomassen,” he answered, using his human name as he always did with unknown callers.

“Hi, Norway? It’s me. Hong Kong.”

Norway frowned. “Hello. Is something wrong?”

“No. Well—” the nation huffed “—apart from the fact we’re married, no. England says you’ve been searching for a way to get us out of it, and I was wondering if I could, like, help.”

“Help? I don’t think so.”

“Oh,” Hong Kong replied, obviously disappointed. Curiously, he was easier to read now that Norway couldn’t see his face. “Are you sure?”

Norway was about to say yes, but then he looked around the room and its towering books, and sighed. Most of them, Hong Kong wouldn’t be able to read, but he was sure he had some English tomes around somewhere that he would be able to search through. It would mean a little less work for himself.

“Norway?”

“No, actually, ya can help. Ya still at the hotel where the meeting was?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll come pick ya up, okay?”

Hong Kong made a noise of affirmation and told Norway he’d be waiting.

And that was why they were both here now, looking through dusty books on opposite ends of the room while the fairies buzzed excitedly between them, pointing out to Norway how cute Hong Kong was, and he has a tiny mole underneath his eye and it’s adorable and he is scrunching his nose and _hey did you see that_! Hong Kong was unbothered, unable to see them, but it was slowly driving Norway insane.

“Hey, your husband is _so_ —”

“That’s _enough_!” Norway burst, and Hong Kong dropped his book in surprise, yelping when it hit his left foot.

“What?”

“I’m going somewhere else,” he replied, brusquely standing up.

“What, why?” Hong Kong stood up as well, wincing when he put weight on his foot. “Did you find something?”

Norway was halfway to the door already. The fairies usually didn’t venture out into his house. They liked to hover around where the magic concentrated, so he was certain enough they wouldn’t bother him in the living room. Hong Kong hopped after him on one foot.

“I didn’t find anything,” Norway sighed, tugging a fairy from his shirt. “But I’m getting nothing done.”

“Why not?” Hop, hop. Norway felt his lips twitch without his permission as he watched Hong Kong struggle over.

“It’s— Hard to explain.”

Hong Kong raised his impressive eyebrows, the most display of emotion Norway had seen from him so far.

Norway sighed. “C’mon.” He offered Hong Kong his arm, helping him hop up the stairs to the hall. It had already turned dark outside, and Norway quickly snapped the lights on as he helped Hong Kong to the living room, the man holding his waist instead of his shoulders due to the height difference between them.

“Ya want anything to eat?” he asked, while Hong Kong untied his shoelaces and tried to pry his left shoe off.

“Eat? Yeah, like, if it’s no trouble?”

Norway shook his head. He’d just toss a salad together or something, and he had some soup left from yesterday that could be warmed. Hong Kong didn’t look like he ate much. Then again, neither did Norway himself, but he did.

When he came back to the living room, having put some bread rolls in the oven, Hong Kong was inspecting his foot, which looked rather swollen already.

“How’s that?” Norway asked. He had a brief, unprecedented thought about having to be a good husband and almost laughed at himself. He didn’t even know what human name Hong Kong used for himself because they talked so little. Not the best start of a marriage.

“Kinda hurts, but at least I can move my toes.” He did just that. “But hey, you never told me why you wanted to leave the basement so suddenly.”

Sitting down on the other end of the couch, Norway replied, “You probably know England can see magical creatures?”

“M-hm, I’m pretty sure he has a unicorn or something, totally weird.”

“I can as well. The most common species ‘round are fairies, but they’re…” His lip twitched. “Actually really annoying.”

“And they were bothering you,” Hong Kong finished, catching on quickly. “But I can’t see them?”

“Most people can’t. It’s an inherent thing.”

Hong Kong nodded, furrowing his brow in thought. “So what were they bothering you about?”

“You,” Norway said. And then, in response to Hong Kong’s eyebrows raising again, “They think I picked a good husband in ya.”

Hong Kong huffed a laugh, eyebrows jumping. He really wasn’t so bad. Far more levelheaded than Norway would have thought, interested without England’s temperament or China’s invasiveness. So far, at least.

“Glad your fairies approve,” Hong Kong quipped, then winced when he moved his foot. Norway bit his lip.

“I can help ya with that,” he offered, hovering a hand over the now definitely swollen foot.

“Like, magically?” He seemed interested, tilting his head so his hair covered his eyes.

Norway nodded, and Hong Kong shrugged, then inclined his head in a universal go-ahead motion, so Norway spread his palm flat on the warm skin, thumb and forefinger circling Hong Kong’s ankle, and closed his eyes. It wasn’t a bad wound, so it didn’t take a lot of energy to heal it.

Hong Kong was staring at him when he opened his eyes.

“What?” Norway asked, suddenly self-conscious. He hadn’t healed anyone but himself in a long time, and wasn’t really sure why he offered.

“Nothing. That was pretty cool.” He moved his foot, and Norway pulled his hand back. “Thanks.”

Mumbling vaguely in reply, Norway got up and went to check on the oven.

They didn’t talk much over their late dinner, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, Norway thought. Hong Kong wanted to know what the fairies said about him, and laughed when Norway told him. He offered to dry the dishes.

“So, like, what other magical creatures are there?” he asked thoughtfully, later in the kitchen. “Fairies, unicorns…”

“Almost anything you can think of has a basis in reality,” Norway replied, putting glasses on the drying rack. “Except Bigfoot, maybe. I’m not sure about that one.”

Hong Kong laughed again, and Norway smiled.

He really wasn’t so bad.

Later still, when Hong Kong had gone back to the hotel, Norway went back to the basement to grab some of his books. It was technically illegal to break a handfast, or had been when they were common, so he wasn’t sure whether he, or England _or_ Hong Kong, would find anything useful, but he’d try, because to the magical realm, it carried all kind of notions to be married. There were places he wouldn’t be able to come, or come without Hong Kong. He’d be expected to introduce his _husband_ to the king of the trolls and whatnot.

Oh, and he didn’t even want to think about what they’d expect of him – them – come Midsummer.

He fell asleep no wiser than he was when he started.

* * *

There were meetings today as well, and Norway was exhausted.

“If it isn’t my husband looking like death warmed over,” Hong Kong said by way of a greeting, when the meetings were finally over and everyone was leaving the hotel for the last time. They hadn’t seen each other all day.

“Hello,” Norway replied shortly. He wasn’t really in the mood for jokes. He’d stayed up too late and got up too early, and then had to deal with England chattering at him about spells for half the morning.

“Hey, did you get enough sleep?”

Norway glanced down at Hong Kong, and he looked genuinely concerned, going by the crease in his eyebrows. What was it to him whether Norway got enough sleep or not?

“No.”

He nodded. “Hey, Nor – can I call you Nor?”

Norway shrugged. He didn’t mind.

“Okay, I was thinking, like, I’d like to help some more with this whole thing. I could stay here for a while.”

They had reached the bus station.

“It’s pretty cool – I mean, how often do you get accidentally married, right? – and you’re an alright guy, I guess, but I also wanna get out of it, because like, it’s just weird.”

Norway kept looking down at him, and he started fidgeting slightly, tucking his hair behind his ear. It looked strange, and Norway wanted to pull it free.

He adjusted his own hairpin instead, saying, “Ya can help, I’d appreciate it. Will ya stay at the hotel?”

Hong Kong shrugged. “I think so. China can look after my home for a while.” He pressed his lips together. “I’ll tell Macau to keep an eye out.”

“C’mon, then.”

Norway nearly fell asleep on the bus, his head dropping on Hong Kong’s shoulder several times. He didn’t seem to mind, but Norway was still mildly embarrassed. When Hong Kong wasn’t occupied nudging Norway awake, he told some stories about Macau and Taiwan, whose human names Norway now heard for the first time. And he still didn’t know what he should call Hong Kong when they were in public.

Well, it didn’t matter that much. They most likely wouldn’t be spending a lot of time together in public anyway.

“Maybe you should take a nap. Unless you don’t trust me with your house, of course,” Hong Kong said when they had reached the house in question. “Hey, do we have joint ownership now that we’re married?”

“If that’s so, ya can have the fairies.”

“Oh, sure, at least they won’t bother you anymore. Seriously, you should take a nap.”

Norway shrugged, and Hong Kong rolled his eyes.

“This is a very nice house, by the way,” he then remarked. “Have I said that?”

“No. But thank you.”

“It’s very, like, _you_ , or something.” He tucked his hair behind his ear while Norway unlocked the door. “You’re nice too.”

“Ya sound surprised.”

In the hallway, they both took off their shoes, Hong Kong his white sneakers and Norway his leather dress shoes.

“I guess I _was_ surprised,” Hong Kong said, and Norway had to think for a second to remember what they had been talking about. “Or I _am_ , I don’t know. Whenever I see you, you’re just, like, wearing this blank face or rolling your eyes at something and I guess it’s slightly intimidating? I don’t know.”

Norway had heard similar things often before. He turned away from Hong Kong to smile, because it was unexpectedly flattering to have someone so completely unrelated to him see through that layer of uncaring.

They got some books from the basement that they could look through, and the afternoon was spent fruitlessly turning dusty pages, Norway’s eyes continually drooping.

“Honestly,” Hong Kong said suddenly, startling Norway. He jerked his head up just in time to see the last traces of a fond smile around Hong Kong’s lips. “You really should take a nap.”

“What, no— It’s nearly time for dinner,” Norway protested.

“Then how about—” and he was standing up, stretching his arms over his head and cracking his back “—I make something to eat, and you sleep. If you’d trust me with your house, you’ll trust me with your kitchen, right?”

Norway tilted his head back to look at Hong Kong, who was now standing behind him, leaning on the back of his chair. He sighed.

“Okay.” Standing up, he added, “I’ll show ya where to find everything.”

So Norway fell asleep listening to Hong Kong puttering around in the kitchen, and the kid really did make a good husband, didn’t he?

Knocking on his bedroom door woke him, and he sat up sleepily, straightening his shirt and rubbing his eyes. Hong Kong was framed in the doorway, leaning against the doorpost.

“Dinner’s ready,” he announced, and then over his shoulder as he turned to walk away, “ _dear_.”

Norway smiled to himself, raked his fingers through his sleep-messy hair, and went to see what Hong Kong had cooked up.

It was _delicious_ , and Norway had no idea what Hong Kong had _done_ in his kitchen to make this, but – of all the people to get accidentally married to, he was thinking Hong Kong was quite a good non-choice.

* * *

“I was thinking,” Hong Kong said when they were doing the dishes again, this time with Norway drying.

“Hm?”

“Your human name – Thomassen? Is that your surname?”

“Yes.”

“If I’d take your surname, I’d be Leon Thomassen.” He tilted his head, using a soapy hand to tuck his hair behind his ear once again. “Sounds okay.”

Norway hid a smile behind his own hair. Hong Kong was taking this as seriously as he himself was, which was not very, and it was amusing. He could have just easily gotten stuck with someone who’d spend the time freaking out at him. He could have gotten stuck with England himself.

“What’s your given name? The human one?”

“I call myself Einar.”

Hong Kong was smiling now, Norway could see through the strands of blond hair obscuring his vision.

“That’d make you Einar Li,” he said, and the smile colored his voice. “That sounds stupid.”

“It does,” Norway agreed. So Hong Kong called himself Leon Li. That was nice, it fit with him.

When they were done, Norway finally gave in, pulling Hong Kong’s dark hair free from behind his ear, letting it fall across his cheek. The nation smiled in surprise, covering the bit of hair with his hand. Norway bit his lip and turned, unsure why he even wanted to do that. Hong Kong looked more like himself with his hair free, but he didn’t see why that should matter.

Neither of them felt like looking through yet more books in the evening, so Hong Kong spent some time playing with his smartphone while Norway flicked through channels on the TV absentmindedly. Hong Kong’s feet pressed against his thigh from time to time, and he had the curious urge to pull them into his lap.

He didn’t, though. He didn’t want to disrupt the comfortableness of the evening.

* * *

The process repeated itself the next day; although the meetings were over, Norway went to pick Hong Kong up from the hotel in the early afternoon, and they were quickly running out of books to search through. Norway hoped England was having more luck, but the message he received later in the day didn’t look very promising on that point.

Hong Kong looked over his head to read it on his phone, his sigh ruffling Norway’s hair.

This time, they made dinner together, which was pleasant, as they worked rather well as a team.

When, after dinner, Norway was doing some paperwork for his boss, he received a summons in the form of a small blue fairy landing on his work and telling him the queen requested he and his husband show up for an audience. Norway tried to ask what she wanted of them, but she was gone already. Knowing from experience that it was a bad idea to ignore an official summons like this, he pulled Hong Kong away from a spell book he seemed to find particularly interesting.

A glimmer appeared in his eyes when Norway told him what had happened, and it was hard to keep from smiling in reply.

“So how do we meet this fairy queen?” he asked, obviously curious.

“Well, first—” Norway looked down at his _husband_ appraisingly. “First, ya need other clothes.”

“What?” Hong Kong looked at himself as well. He was wearing the same jeans-and-T-shirt ensemble as yesterday. It wasn’t anything to show up in to court. “All my clothes are at the hotel, you know.”

“Hmh.”

“And I don’t think anything of yours will make me look more, like, dignified.”

Involuntarily, Norway found himself imagining Hong Kong drowning in one of his shirts, the sleeves slipping over his hands and the hem long enough to cover his thighs. He bit his lips and blinked the fantasy away, focusing on the actual Hong Kong and his raised eyebrows.

“Ya forget, I’m actually pretty good at magic.”

The eyebrows quirked, but Hong Kong followed without question when Norway started walking to his bedroom. He shuffled in the doorway until he was gestured in.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Whoa – I know we’re married and all, but I really think you should buy me dinner first, Norway.”

“We’ll go out tomorrow.” Norway held out one of his shirts without looking up, a red one he almost never wore. When Hong Kong didn’t take it, he looked at him. “What?”

“Did you just tell me we’re going out to dinner tomorrow?” He lifted the shirt with one finger. “Also, I think this is, like, a little too big.”

“Just put it on.” Norway didn’t know why he said the dinner thing. It slipped out, but he supposed he wouldn’t be opposed. If they were still married by then. Or even if they weren’t, but Hong Kong would probably want to go home as soon as they found a way to divorce.

“It’s really too big, I don’t know what you expected.”

Norway expected exactly this, but still, it was odd to see the small nation disappearing in his shirt. That hadn’t ever happened before. Norway knew he was skinny, most people wore bigger sizes than he did. He was just so much taller than Hong Kong. To see him like this was endearing at the same time it was, in a way, empowering.

He didn’t say any of those things, though, just took a small step forward to place his hands on Hong Kong’s shoulders. His collarbones showed.

“What are you doing?”

Norway mumbled a word under his breath, running his hands down Hong Kong’s arms. He felt the fabric move under his fingers, and Hong Kong gasped when the shirt became a nearly perfect fit, tightening around his chest. He was leaner than Norway had expected him to be.

“Oh,” he breathed. Norway inclined his head, hiding another smile as he did up the top buttons.

“Ya can wear your own shirt to dinner if ya prefer.”

Hong Kong huffed a laugh, and Norway looked at his face again, letting himself smile back.

“Do I look presentable now?” He spread his arms cheekily. Norway swept his gaze down his body. The jeans would have to do – pants were much harder to change than shirts – but he really did look good in red. Norway’s gaze lingered on his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob. He snapped himself out of it when he realized what he was doing.

“You’ll do. C’mon.”

Even as he made an indignant noise, Hong Kong followed Norway to the garden. They’d have to cross into the realm of the fairies, where Hong Kong would actually be able to see them, and there was a way there in the garden – a standing stone Norway had been lugging around to wherever he moved for over two centuries now. It was bothersome, but still the easiest way to ensure himself passage there.

“So what now?” Hong Kong asked.

Silently, Norway placed a hand flat on the stone, opening the way into the other realm. He heard Hong Kong gasp behind him when the way opened, spilling soft purple light into the dusk. He turned to him.

“When we’re at the court,” he started, “do not eat or drink anything.”

Hong Kong tilted his head, saying, “I know that myth. If you eat something, you can’t leave?”

“It’s not a myth. Let’s go.”

They walked silently through a hall bathed in purple light, Norway keeping his eyes straight ahead. He’d made the mistake of getting distracted a few times when he was younger and had no desire to repeat the experience. He did, however, glance back at Hong Kong a few times. He was staring around in apparent wonder, at the elegant columns rising around them, tinted lilac and adorned with leaves and intricate vines. There were no windows, but the walls glistened and the high ceiling sparkled.

This wasn’t even the worst of it.

They reached the doors to the court, and Norway had to wait up for Hong Kong.

When the guards opened the doors, letting natural light in once again, Hong Kong gasped, and though Norway was silent, he had to admit he too was impressed, as always. A wealth of color beckoned to them; a wide-open dusky sky, flowers growing around wood and glass, clothes of nearly translucent fabric shimmering in the light of lanterns. Music was being played somewhere, and the scent of fresh fruits spilled out. Here, all creatures were human-sized, more or less. Norway had thought long about it and reckoned maybe he was the one who got resized, but had decided to leave it alone a long time ago.

“The queen wishes to see you,” said a fairy man dressed in white and blue, his eyes a bright apple green. “Follow me.”

Hong Kong didn’t follow right away, lingering by the doors in awe. Norway bit his lip and reached for his hand so he could pull him along.

“What—”

“Don’t get distracted. Just follow my lead.”

To his credit, Hong Kong kept up the pace without Norway having to pull on his hand. Still, he didn’t let go. Norway had never been here with another nation, or anyone, really. After all this time, he found it was reassuring to be able to hold on to someone. He didn’t want to think about it too much, but Hong Kong threaded their fingers together and it became impossible _not_ to.

Until they reached the queen, seated on her throne of flowers and glass, green skin seeming to glow. She had been queen ever since Norway was a child, which was a long time ago, but still looked as beautiful and graceful as she did the day they met. She was the only person – creature – Norway really felt awed by these days.

“Northland,” she started – and he wouldn’t ever convince them to stop calling him that, would he? –, “I hear you’ve been handfasted.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Norway replied. He bowed, tugging at Hong Kong’s hand to indicate he should do the same thing. He did, quite gracefully. They probably looked stupid, still holding hands, like they were doing a curtain call, but it was for the best, Norway told himself.

“And this is your husband?”

Norway squeezed Hong Kong’s hand. “Yes, he is.”

The queen crossed her legs and looked him up and down, then said, “I see. He is young, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is,” Norway repeated. Honestly, if she was going to accuse him of being a cradle-robber—

“And what is your name, child?”

“Ah—” Hong Kong started, but Norway squeezed his hand again, and he stopped the obvious protest. “My name is Hong Kong. Your majesty.”

“Very well.”

Hong Kong had come closer to Norway with miniature steps, pressing their entire forearms together and radiating heat into Norway’s skin even through the shirt he was wearing.

The queen announced she had gifts of fertility for the two of them. One of the servants snickered when she said that, and Norway could feel Hong Kong huffing at his side. Well, as long as they didn’t want to see the gifts in action, they’d be fine. Probably. Fairy magic was strong magic.

The gifts turned out to be rings, gold for the sun. Norway had to let go of Hong Kong to accept his. His hand felt empty, and he mindlessly tried to reach for Hong Kong’s again when the gift was received, but he was a pace too far away. Curling his fingers in thin air, Norway hoped he hadn’t freaked him out, because he honestly quite liked the nation and would like to be friends with him when this was all over with.

After some formalities, they were free to go, and a servant appeared to lead the way out. Norway knew this was the hardest part – the fairies would always try to keep one here.

Therefore, he wasn’t entirely surprised when he felt Hong Kong’s presence disappear from his side halfway through the court, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting. Even though they weren’t actually a couple, he felt Hong Kong should know better than to follow – Norway looked – follow an extremely attractive member of the court, whose gender was not easily discernible. The fairy was winding their fingers through Hong Kong’s hair, which had a purple shine in the light. Norway gritted his teeth.

“Excuse me,” he told the smug servant leading the way, and he marched over to Hong Kong, grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the fairy, rougher than he intended. This was why he didn’t like to come here. Everything became jumbled. He had no reason to be jealous.

 _Oh_. He was jealous.

Hong Kong nearly tripped over his own feet as Norway pulled him along, and he kept glancing over his shoulder all through the hall.

In the garden once again, Norway had to fight the urge to slam Hong Kong up against the standing stone and—

“Oh, dear god, what just happened?”

“You were almost enthralled,” Norway said. Hong Kong’s head snapped up to him, and he realized how gravelly his voice had become all of a sudden. He quickly turned, taking deep breaths and pushing his hair out of his face. Maybe he was the one enthralled.

A hand on his shoulder. His heart raced.

“Norway? You alright?”

He closed his eyes. “Yes, don’t worry. It’s always disorienting in there.”

“Hey.” Hong Kong walked around to face Norway. It looked like he was blushing. “Sorry. That wasn’t very, like, husbandly of me.”

“They _were_ very attractive,” Norway mumbled. A corner of Hong Kong’s mouth ticked up.

“True. But you’re not so bad yourself.” Immediately after he said that, he was gone, walking back to Norway’s house, which left Norway to stare at the standing stone and bite his lip in wonder.

The rest of the evening started tense, at least for Norway, who didn’t know how to feel about what had happened, but he eventually relaxed until the same companionable atmosphere as yesterday dawned on the living room. Hong Kong was still reading that magic book, and Norway did the last of his paperwork while the radio provided background noise. It was very domestic, and Norway occasionally found himself glancing at the ring Hong Kong was wearing, wondering if anyone who didn’t know them would think they were actually married.

Well, they were married, of course. Just not a couple.

* * *

Norway jerked awake at two in the night with his reading glasses still on and Hong Kong sleeping with his head cushioned on Norway’s upper legs. The spell book was resting on his chest, but Norway’s jerk made him shift so that it fell to the ground with what sounded like an enormous thwack. He was startled awake as well, looking up at Norway for a long moment.

“Oh,” he then breathed, slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Two?” Norway rotated his neck and took his glasses off.

“That’s… I should go back to the hotel. Are there, like, night buses or something?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

A small pause. Norway wet his lips.

“I— Ya can stay here. I’ve got a spare room, there’s just some… Junk on the bed.”

“Don’t get a lot of overnight guests?”

Norway shrugged.

“But sure, that sounds good. Lead the way, dear.”

Okay, so – _some_ junk might have been rather optimistically put, but Norway was sure he could use his magic to get the collection of books and old clothes and trinkets out of the way. He’d only lived here for five years, how could he have accumulated this much of a mess already?

They managed to pile enough things against the opposite wall that the bed was free and the door could still be reached in just over an hour, five minutes of which Hong Kong spent laughing at a Christmas sweater he found among the mess. It was a yellow and green monstrosity with bells on that Norway remembered he had once unironically worn, but now wouldn’t be caught dead in. Even for him, that was too much.

It was half past three by the time Norway finally found the bedding and could make the bed, and then Hong Kong had to borrow a shirt to sleep in, and Norway was hazy with sleep but dark blue also looked amazing on him…

* * *

This time, he woke up to sunlight shining into his face and lean legs tangled with his own.

Norway jerked back, startling Hong Kong awake. They stared at each other.

“Good morning,” Hong Kong whispered, as if it were normal that Norway was in bed with him. He must have fallen asleep here tonight, exhausted after the cleaning and the situation at the fairy court.

“Hi,” he croaked back. “Sorry, I…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

And so they lay in silence, charged but not uncomfortable. Norway liked the way Hong Kong’s hair looked, the sunlight creating hues of brown and red in it. He _was_ a good-looking person, Norway had noticed before they even got _married_ , but it was in the same way he noticed that, objectively speaking, Estonia and Turkey and Vietnam were good-looking. He’d never noticed the little golden flecks in his eyes or the charming way his teeth were a little crooked.

It had been a long time since Norway had just been in bed with someone like this.

“What’s the time?” Hong Kong asked, barely above a whisper. Norway wet his lips as he reached for his phone on the nightstand. The clock in this room had stopped working, probably a while ago.

“Nine thirty,” he read. Late enough to get up, definitely, but he didn’t really want to.

Hong Kong was smiling softly, his head cushioned on one arm. He had dark eyelashes that caught the light. Norway wanted nothing more than to touch his face, run his fingers over his cheek, contour his lips and feel him breathe.

He froze, only letting himself rotate the ring now around his ring finger.  This was just because they’d spent an unusual amount of time together. It didn’t mean he was— Didn’t mean he felt anything for Hong Kong, who he still barely knew.

Norway rolled to his back and swung his legs out of the bed. He hadn’t even slept under the covers, and was still wearing his clothes from yesterday.

“Ya want any breakfast?” he asked, standing up.

“Hmh,” Hong Kong said. He was stretching, his back arching off the bed as he groaned. Norway quickly looked away.

After a small breakfast and a quick shower, Norway took Hong Kong to his hotel. He gathered enough courage to ask him to leave the place and come stay with him just in time, blurting the question as Hong Kong was preparing to leave the car, hand already on the door. He sat back and looked at Norway with raised eyebrows.

“It probably won’t be for long, but it’s much easier,” Norway explained.

His husband smiled. “Okay. Sure.”

So, with Hong Kong’s bags packed, they went to the local supermarket for groceries and answered a call from England, who claimed one of his brothers might have more information about what they could do. He saw fit to warn them about the fairy court, and neither of them mentioned they’d already been through that one, though they did glance at each other knowingly. Norway’s ring felt heavy on his hand. It was best to wear it, he thought. You never knew what the fairy folk might think if they didn’t, and he had no desire to antagonize them.

It was, of course, a perfect fit.

He showed Hong Kong around the small town he called home at the moment, pointing out things in Norwegian when asked. They had lunch at a café hidden on the outskirts of town, crammed in between a lake and a mountain. It was a nice day, even if they did nothing productive.

* * *

“So how about that dinner?” Hong Kong asked, once more in Norway’s house. He was vacating the left side of the couch, in what Norway had started to think of as _his_ spot already.

“Do ya want to go out?”

“If it’s no trouble. It’d be fun.” He drew his legs up, resting his chin on his knees.

Of course it was no trouble. Norway made reservations under his human name.

Before they left, Hong Kong insisted on taking a shower. Norway flipped some pages in spell books as he listened to water run and resolutely did not let his mind wander.

It would be Midsummer in just a few days, he realized; there were already preparations going on for the parties. They had to be divorced by then – there was so much magic in the air during Midsummer that their handfast would become impossible, not just difficult, to break. He didn’t know if he wanted to tell Hong Kong about that. If England or one of his brothers knew how to annul the marriage before then, there would be no need to. If they didn’t, well, what was the point?

Light footsteps in the room. Norway realized the water had shut off a while ago, and he looked up to find Hong Kong in his own white shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and his hair still damp and half slicked back. He couldn’t ignore the way his chest went tight when he saw him, but he wrote it off as nothing more than attraction. It was fine to be attracted to people. There had to be no other feelings involved.

“Hey,” Hong Kong said, half-smiling.

“Hi.” Norway cleared his throat. “Hi. Ya look nice.”

“Thank you.” He straightened his collar. “Fancy enough?”

“Yeah. Yeah, perfect. I’ll go put something else on, too.”

Hong Kong nodded, leaning a hip against the table while Norway went upstairs to pick out a nice shirt. He was still there when, after much unnecessary deliberating, Norway returned in a dark blue dress shirt and black jeans, and he was rotating the thin golden ring around his finger. His fingers weren’t as thin as Norway’s, but he had small hands. It really did look like a wedding ring. When they got to the restaurant, people would think they were married. Which _they were_ , Norway had to remind himself.

“Hey. You look, like… You look great.” And his eyes were raking over Norway’s body in a way he could almost describe as hungry. It made his heart skip a beat.

“Thank you. Shall we go, then?”

“Of course, dear.”

* * *

The restaurant staff did indeed think they were married, and neither of them denied it. Hong Kong even replied when called Mr Thomassen, courteously explaining that _sorry_ , he didn’t speak Norwegian yet, his dear husband was still teaching him.

Norway rolled his eyes at the nation, who just smiled mischievously and raised his eyebrows as if to challenge him.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Norway asked the waiter in Norwegian if the seating placement mightn’t be changed so his husband could sit next to him, and the request was swiftly obeyed, leaving Hong Kong to shake his head and join Norway on his side of the table.

He retaliated by offering – _feeding_ – Norway bites of his mixed fish platter, even going as far as wiping Norway’s mouth with his napkin after he accepted the food.

It was amusing. Norway knew there weren’t many people he’d do something like this with, and he didn’t think Hong Kong would.

He wasn’t sure how to react to this action, or what game they were even playing. The possibility of kissing Hong Kong flitted through his mind, lodging itself in some deep part only to resurface at inopportune moments but not coming to fruition. Instead, he just shuffled closer to him until they were thigh-to-thigh and stole scoops of his dessert that Hong Kong tried to win back by getting Norway’s spoon into his mouth. It was very hard not to laugh out loud.

But this was flirting, wasn’t it? Norway wasn’t very good at that, or so he thought, but this was… He hadn’t even noticed what was going on until it was too late. This was natural, effortless.

 _God_.

The urge to slam Hong Kong up against something when they left the restaurant was enormous once more. Norway didn’t know if it was the glass of wine talking – it couldn’t be – but the dip of the nation’s throat where he had undone the top buttons of his shirt was the most frustrating thing he’d seen all year. He wanted to know what the skin tasted like, what Hong Kong’s lips tasted like, and it was just attraction now, but he liked Hong Kong, liked how levelheaded he was and how willing to roll with what had happened to them, liked his small smiles and dry jokes. It could become more.

It was a beautiful night, clear and still pleasant despite the moon already making its way across the sky, and they took a detour walking back to Norway’s car. Their arms brushed together every few steps, the back of Norway’s hand touching the soft skin of Hong Kong’s forearm.

“This was nice,” Hong Kong said softly. His arm pressed purposefully against Norway’s hand. Norway reached down slowly, running his fingers down Hong Kong’s wrist to twine their hands together. His heart was beating very fast.

“It was.”

A maybe-not-so-unintended date, Norway thought. Perhaps they were just doing things the wrong way around. Getting married first, then dating… He could see himself really becoming attached to Hong Kong. Already had, in a way.

They reached the car, and Norway stepped onto the street to get to the driver’s side, letting go of Hong Kong’s hand, when the nation in question caught his attention with a quiet, “Hey.”

“Hm?” Norway asked, turning to face him. He was still on the sidewalk, so the height difference wasn’t as drastic now, Hong Kong’s eyes level with Norway’s nose.

“I just, like…” He pressed his lips together and tucked his hair behind his ear in what was quickly becoming a familiar nervous gesture. “I kinda like being married to you, I guess.”

Norway felt a smile tugging at his lips.

“And I don’t know, maybe when this is done, we could do this again. Not the getting accidentally married part. Uhm…”

“The part where we go on a date?” Norway asked under his breath. He touched the tips of his shoes to the sidewalk.

A huff of breath. “Yeah, that part.”

“I’d like that.”

Hong Kong was nodding, pulling his hair free and pressing his lips together in a smile. He glanced from the pavement to Norway, dark eyes flitting over his face, and then he was leaning in slowly, tilting his face up, and though Norway was momentarily captivated by the way the moonlight caught on his cheekbone, he let himself sway forward until their lips touched and his hand was on Hong Kong’s neck, carding through his hair. It was a soft, short kiss, but Norway clamped his eyes shut, blocking out everything else, and leaned back in.

Arms wrapped around his neck. When Hong Kong tilted his head, their lips somehow fit perfectly together, and Norway could do this forever. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed like this, completely unhurried, uncaring that they were somewhere where people might know him.

Hong Kong was smiling; Norway could feel it against his own lips, see it when he pulled back a little. It felt good and it looked amazing, and he smiled back, brushing his thumb over Hong Kong’s jaw.

“I don’t usually do this,” Hong Kong breathed, as if in wonder.

“Me neither,” Norway confessed. The tip of his nose pressed against the bridge of Hong Kong’s. The smile refused to leave his lips. No, this was unlike him, but it felt good. It felt right.

“So what now?”

“Let’s go home.”

They spent another evening on the couch, watching a movie together, and though Norway was not entirely sure what it was about, it was enjoyable. He did pull Hong Kong’s feet into his lap this time, but they didn’t remain there for long, because Hong Kong scooted up on the couch until his legs were draped over Norway’s thighs, so Norway wrapped an arm around him instead. Hong Kong curled into him, resting his head against his shoulder. He was playing with the golden ring from the fairy queen.

Yes, this was nice.

* * *

The next morning, only four days until Midsummer, Norway woke feeling good. Or as good as possible without having had any coffee yet.

After having coffee and some toast, and after indulging himself by kissing the top of Hong Kong’s head as he stumbled into the kitchen, Norway received a message from his boss, telling him he did need to show up at the government at some point. He bit his lip. That’d be a few hours out of his day. Maybe he could take Hong Kong to Oslo, show him around.

“Hey, Hong Kong?”

“Hm?” The nation tilted his head back over the backrest of his chair. He was doing something with his phone, maybe checking on his own house.

“Ya ever been to Oslo?”

“No? Why, are we going there?”

Norway explained that his boss wanted to see him, and since the weather was nice, he’d like to show Hong Kong his capital.

“Okay, sure,” he said. “Don’t we have more books to read or anything?”

Biting his lip, Norway replied, “England’s gonna be more useful than us on that.”

He was sure he heard Hong Kong mutter, “That’d be a first,” and turned away to laugh. Hong Kong made an indignant noise.

“Are you laughing at me?” And he was behind Norway all of a sudden, wrapping his arms around his waist and tightening them. Norway jerked.

“Hey—”

“Oh,” Hong Kong breathed, a grin obvious in that single syllable. “Norway…”

“No, don’t ya dare—”

However, he dug his fingers into Norway’s sides and wriggled them relentlessly, laughing as Norway tried to squirm away, making very undignified snorting noises.

They ended up in a heap half-on, half-off the couch, shirts rucked up and hair messy from the impromptu tickle fight. Hong Kong was a little flushed, a little wild, and Norway absolutely loved how it looked on him. His fingers were still on Norway’s skin, resting warm on the exposed jut of a hipbone. It was easy to imagine what it would be like with a little less clothes. Norway bit his lip and stopped Hong Kong’s fingers from touching the waistband of his jeans.

“Hm,” Hong Kong started, “not until the third date?”

“Maybe.” Norway pushed himself upright, leaning forward to kiss Hong Kong, who was sitting on the rug, then explained, “Mostly, it’s that I gotta be in Oslo in two hours, so I’d better make myself presentable.”

It wasn’t until he was at the living room door that he heard Hong Kong, behind him, say,

“Looks plenty presentable from here.”

Norway shook his head, smiling, and headed for the bathroom upstairs.

Oh, he did look very flushed. He combed his hair, clipped it back on one side, splashed some water on his face. His clothes were fine once straightened a bit. Next, Norway looked at the ring on his finger. His boss probably wouldn’t ask about it, but other people might. Especially those who didn’t know he was a nation would assume he just got married. He did, but he’d rather keep Hong Kong to himself for now, get to know him a little better.

“It is certainly doing its job well, isn’t it?” a small voice piped up. The same blue fairy as earlier, sitting on Norway’s shaving cream. She waved cheerily, wings fluttering.

“What’s doing its job well?”

“Oh!” She flew up, hovering at eye height. “The rings. _You_ seem to be very… Fertile, Northland.”

“Fertile— I don’t understand.”

She shrugged her tiny shoulders. “What’s not to understand? You have been given the gift of fertility, and it looks like you’re putting it to good use. Good for you, go Northland. Your husband’s so cute, have I said that? You’re so lucky.”

Something scratched the back of Norway’s mind, something unpleasant. He twisted the golden band around his finger. It seemed heavier. He took it off and looked at it.

“Ya mean th—”

Of course she was gone. Of _course_.

Norway turned the ring over between his fingers. Fertility, the queen had said. There didn’t seem to be anything odd or magical about it, but Norway didn’t know the magic of the fairy folk well enough. He’d never wanted to meddle with them, so it was better to stay away.

And this was the reason. They meddled. They did nothing but meddle. Why hadn’t he realized something was off?

 _I don’t usually do this_ , Hong Kong had said. And why would he now? Why would he ever fall for Norway, who was so much older than him, was unable to undo something as stupid as a magical handfast?

 _Me neither_ , Norway had answered. He wasn’t so reckless. He didn’t fall in love with stupid flirting or the way Hong Kong’s hair looked or the silent caring or—

Knocking on the bathroom door. “Hey, you alright in there?”

Norway unclenched his fingers and took a deep breath. It was too good to be true anyway. He knew from experience things like that didn’t last.

“Norway?”

“I’m fine.” He looked almost perfectly fine, he saw in the mirror. Hong Kong wouldn’t know.

Leaving the ring on the sink, Norway opened the door. His heart clenched when he saw Hong Kong smiling softly.

“Hong Kong, I…” He swallowed. “Give me your hand? Your right.”

“Why?” Hong Kong asked, even as he did offer Norway his hand. There it was, the golden ring glinting on his ring finger. Norway bit his lip, sighed, and slid it off.

“What are you doing?” Hong Kong asked curiously.

“Hong Kong…” Norway put the ring in his pocket, fit his hands around Hong Kong’s jaw and leaned down to kiss him quickly but firmly. “I think it’s best I go to Oslo alone.”

“What—“

“And maybe ya should go home. I’m sure your people miss ya.” He stood up straight, letting go of his _husband_.

Grabbing one of Norway’s hands, Hong Kong protested, “My people are fine without me for a while. What’s up with you? Are you, like, breaking up with me right now?”

Norway tugged his hand free, balling it into a fist. He looked at the ground and nodded.

“Why? I don’t understand, I thought we were, like… Like, I don’t know, having a good time. Is it the being married thing? I’m sure we can just wait to go on a second date until we’re not married anymore, or just, like—”

“No, it’s not that,” Norway interrupted. “Listen, I just think this isn’t right.”

“Is it because of the age difference? Because—”

“No, Hong Kong, listen, it’s nothing to do with ya. Believe me, it’s better for both of us if we don’t continue this.”

Hong Kong stared up at him disbelievingly, and Norway’s chest felt hollow.

“I’m sorry.”

He turned away and listened to Hong Kong’s footsteps drag across the hall.

* * *

The ringing of his phone was almost impossible to hear over the loud guitars screeching through the living room, but Norway managed to catch it during a lull in the song. He quickly snapped the music off and looked at the caller ID.

“England, hello.”

“Hello Norway. How are you?”

“Fine,” Norway answered shortly, as if he hadn’t spent the past two days listening to the loudest Viking metal he could find in an attempt to drown out the anger he felt towards the whole damn fairy court for fucking up what could have been a perfectly good friendship and towards his own inability to have recognized the situation earlier. Most of all, though, he was trying to drown out the fact that he still thought of Hong Kong the same way, that he still wanted to be with him, get to know him and be able to kiss him. He hadn’t heard anything from Hong Kong himself at all.

It would be unfair to him to make him think he returned Norway’s very real feelings, or ever did.

“Alright, wonderful,” England said, sounding slightly dubious. “I’m calling to invite you to the Midsummer celebration at my house, tomorrow.”

Norway sighed. He could already taste the magic crackling in the air, ready to burst come tomorrow. He wanted to go, he loved Midsummer. But he knew he was still married to Hong Kong. There was no telling what the outcome of the celebration would be on that.

“What do you think?”

“Well… Okay, I’ll come.”

“Great! I will see you tomorrow, then.”

“See ya, England.”

* * *

It was a perfect day to celebrate Midsummer, even in England’s house. The sun was setting but it was warm, there was a light breeze blowing, the air had a metallic tang that Norway associated with strong magic. He was starting to relax. It was fine to mope for a few days, it would do him no harm, but it felt better to be content with what he did have.

“Norway!” England, not appearing drunk yet, which was unusual. “There you are, just the person I was looking for. I’ve got news for you.”

Norway raised his eyebrows.

“Yes. You see, I have found a solution to the, ah, _situation_ , with you and Hong Kong.” He beamed proudly.

“The… Oh, the… The handfast situation.”

“Yes, of course. Are there other situations I could be talking about?”

Quickly, Norway shook his head. He didn’t think England would take kindly to him being outsmarted by the fairy folk. He had a lot more experience with them than Norway did.

“Alright, well, my brothers and I found a way to break a handfast. We’re certain it will work.” He paused, scratching his chin and pursing his lips, which had Norway on edge immediately.

“However,” England continued, “if it doesn’t work for some reason – and it is a very precise incantation – the handfast will become absolute and unbreakable for a year.”

“A year,” Norway repeated. A year, in his perspective, wasn’t long, but he wasn’t sure how it would feel now. To be tied to Hong Kong for a year would be very, very inconvenient, to say the least.

“Until next Midsummer. It’s the only way. We have to do it today. Have you seen Hong Kong?”

Norway tensed. “He’s here?”

“Yes, of course he’s here. I need both of you for the ceremony.” He narrowed his green eyes at Norway. “What happened to you two? I thought you were getting along with each other quite well.”

“We were.”

England made a ‘go-on’ motion. Norway wanted to tell him it was none of his business what went down between himself and Hong Kong, but he also wanted to tell someone, in hopes that what happened would start to sound logical again, because it had lost all meaning to him.

“We were getting along,” he said. “Very well. I like Hong Kong, he’s. I don’t know, he’s radiant. But when ya warned us about the fairies? We had already been to the court.”

England hissed in sympathy. “Something happened?”

“In a way. We got gifts from the queen. Gold rings. For _fertility_.”

With a laugh, England said, “That sounds useless.”

“Only it wasn’t.” Norway twined his fingers together. “We went out, spent time together. I felt like I liked him.”

A pause. Then, “You _felt_ _like_ you liked him, what does that mean, Norway?”

England was the worst person to have to share this story with, Norway thought. He watched over Hong Kong like a little brother.

“It means I thought I was falling in love with him,” he said, voice quiet enough that he could barely hear himself.

“But you think you weren’t really,” England finished slowly. “Because the fairy queen gave you gifts for fertility.”

Norway nodded. England shook his head.

“They don’t do that. The fairies are deceptive, I won’t deny that. They’re cunning and they’re sly, but they aren’t manipulative.” He glanced up, as if the fairies would be swooping down on him for saying such things about them. They wouldn’t, most likely too busy with their own Midsummer celebrations.

“Hold on, what?”

“I’m merely saying that if you really think you’re in love with Hong Kong, then you are. Even the fairy folk cannot imitate that. The most those rings would have done is make you less inhibited. _What_ did you do to Hong Kong, Norway?” The last part sounded vaguely threatening, inasmuch as anything England said could sound threatening these days.

“Are ya sure about this?”

“ _Yes_. I’ve been around for a while, remember. _What_ did you do?”

Norway shook his head. “I fucked up, is what I did.”

Oh, did he ever fuck up. And the chance he could make it right… Not big.

“It’s none of my business, but if you’ve hurt Hong Kong…”

Norway just shook his head. He _had_ , and he had no idea how to undo it. Hong Kong probably hated him at the moment. It would fade over time, of course, hating someone took a lot of energy, but that didn’t mean what he’d done would ever be forgotten. He didn’t know if Hong Kong was the forgiving and forgetting sort of person.

“Norway, I’ll help you break the handfast, but anything else is up to you,” England said. “I will go and find Hong Kong. The ceremony has to be done before it turns midnight in Norway, where you were handfasted, so we’ve got one hour. That should be enough.”

“Okay. What should I—”

“Just wait here. I’ll just be a moment.”

So Norway sat down on the grass and put his chin in his hands, sightlessly staring at the hills surrounding him. Had Hong Kong purposely been avoiding him at this celebration? There weren’t that many people – Norway had seen England’s brothers, some humans, caught a fleeting glimpse of someone he’s quite sure was Canada – so it was hard not to see someone. Well, not as if he could blame him. If he’d known Hong Kong was there, he’d have done the same thing.

“Ah, you’re still here, good.” England was back, looking down on Norway with the last sunrays catching in his wispy hair. “Stand up and we’ll begin.”

Hong Kong was standing a few paces off, looking at his sneakers. Norway took a deep breath as he climbed to his feet, trying to force down the hollow feeling in his chest. He hated this. He shouldn’t feel so helpless, he was over a thousand fucking years old.

“The way this goes is simple for you,” England explained, tugging at Norway’s arm to get him within touching range of Hong Kong, who still refused to look up. “You only have to stand here and touch the handfasted hands together. I will be reciting a spell, and when I finish, you _must_ let go of each other’s hands, or it won’t work.”

“Right,” Hong Kong mumbled.

“How long is the spell?” Norway asked.

Sighing, England pulled out a bound book containing about twenty pages, saying, “I’ll have to read all this. It’s purposefully designed to be as difficult as possible so that handfasts won’t be broken.”

It would take at least half an hour to read that much text, especially magical text, which required clear pronunciation. It would be finished only just before Norwegian midnight. No room for error.

“Let’s get started, then,” England said. He motioned at Norway and Hong Kong, and Hong Kong grasped Norway’s right hand with his left, still not looking at him. His hair was fiery red in the sunlight, and his hand was warm. Norway couldn’t help but remember those fingers on his skin, and he shivered.

As England started droning up the spell, which was in a language Norway didn’t recognize, and walking in circles around the two of them, they stood motionless. Norway could practically feel his hand getting sweaty, but he couldn’t let go.

“Hong Kong,” he whispered after a while, deciding that if he ever were to explain what happened, now would be the perfect time. Hong Kong, of course, didn’t acknowledge his words. “Please just look at me.”

“Why would I?” Hong Kong mumbled. His hair was falling in his face.

“Because I, I wanna explain to ya why I did… What I did.”

Hong Kong huffed, unimpressed. “There isn’t that much to explain. You were a dick.”

Norway’s fingers tightened and he could feel that Hong Kong wanted to jerk his hand free, but he held on.

“I misinterpreted the situation,” Norway tried. Finally, Hong Kong looked up at him, a furious glint in his eyes. Norway swallowed hard and didn’t allow himself to look away. He deserved that.

“What was there to misinterpret, Norway? It all seemed very, like, clean-cut to me. I thought you liked me!” he whisper-yelled. England’s droning was unfaltering.

“I know. I know.” He took a deep breath. His heart beat in his throat. “And I did. I _do_.”

“So what then? Were you scared or something?” Hong Kong took a step closer to glare up at him. “Honestly, how fucking old are you?”

He was angry. Norway hated himself for thinking it was, in a strange way, very attractive on him.

“I wasn’t scared,” he said. “I thought—”

“You thought, but did you _look_?”

“I _thought_ we were being manipulated,” he snapped. “I didn’t want to do that to ya, let ya think ya were in love with me when ya weren’t, or let myself… Let myself fall in love with someone who didn’t feel that way about me.”

England’s droning had turned into chanting, which perhaps meant he was reaching the end of the incantation; Norway had no idea how long he’d been standing here already, but the sun was gone behind the horizon and the only gold was in Hong Kong’s narrowed eyes.

“Manipulated by what? This?” He shook their joined hands.

“No, the—”

“Those rings,” Hong Kong breathed, eyes going wide. “Those rings we got from the fairy queen, isn’t it? You think they made me feel something I didn’t.”

Once again, he was proving himself smarter than Norway himself. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

Norway shrugged, and Hong Kong huffed.

“They aren’t magic, though?” His voice was low. Norway had to step closer just to hear him, pressing their hands between their bodies.

“Not like that.” He laced his fingers through Hong Kong’s, trying to stop them from shaking. “I know I fucked up, I just hope ya can forgive that. We could be friends.”

Hong Kong’s eyes flitted over Norway’s face silently.

“You’re an idiot,” he whispered. “I can’t believe you’re a thousand years old.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Norway started, slightly indignant. Hong Kong smiled, and he fell silent, reveling in the expression.

England’s chanting turned into shouting, and then he was yelling, “ _Let go now_!”

But Hong Kong was tugging on Norway’s hand, the fingers of his free one tangling in his hair and pulling him down into a crushing kiss, pressing them bodily together. The sting of magic ran through Norway’s body, blossoming from his right palm, but all that mattered was Hong Kong’s lips yielding to his, his soft hair slipping through Norway’s fingers. When they eventually let go of each other’s hands, it was only to grasp at clothes, Hong Kong scrabbling at Norway’s back.

They were out of breath when they parted at last. Hong Kong hid his face in Norway’s collar, pressing his palms against his chest. Norway bit his lips to keep a grin down and looked over at England, who threw his hands up in the air and was shaking his head in exasperation.

“Now you’re _still_ married!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t mind,” Hong Kong mumbled, looking over his shoulder. He was flushed. Norway wanted to kiss him again. “He’s really quite a good husband. I’m fine with spending a year with him.”

Norway hid a smile in the man’s hair while England walked away, still shaking his head.

“Good to know my family likes you,” Hong Kong said. Norway huffed.

“Wait ‘til I introduce ya to Iceland and Denmark.”


End file.
